"Josh, it's Josh, Dad, look at this!" Rowley excitedly pointed at a window on the castle. "I'm sure that's Josh. When I was at work, he had that exact expression when he stood at the window watching me!"
Hardy leaned closer and said, "It does look a bit like him. This painting is as strange as ever. Madam Christie is gone, and there's a boy who looks a lot like Josh. What does that mean?"
Lex had originally thought they had experienced this at least once.
They should know how to solve it, but now it sounds like Hardy and the others don't even know that Josh's spirit might be imprisoned in the painting.
He cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Hardy, from what you've just said, you must have experienced something similar to this. Don't you know how to deal with it?"
Hardy and Rowley exchanged glances, then both shook their heads.
The old man said, "Rowley and the others were still young then, it happened when they were about eleven or twelve."
"At that time, their grandfather, my father, had just returned from the Sea and brought back this painting, 'Madam Christie.'"
"However, at that time, he didn't know what this painting would bring. There was a gentleman living nearby then, I think his name was Frank, or Frankie, I can't quite remember."
"Anyway, one time when he came to visit, he took a liking to this painting and bought it from my father for a high price."
"A week later, his youngest son didn't wake up. I remember he was a little chubby kid who loved sweets, and could eat several donuts at a time."
"Mr. Frank sent his son to the hospital, and not long after, his eldest daughter also fell into an unending sleep, which plunged their family into panic."
"Then one day, that gentleman came to find my father, saying that Madam Christie in the painting had disappeared. He even brought the painting over, and I happened to be there. I did see that Madam Christie, who should have been standing on the castle terrace, was gone, just like now. I didn't know where she went."
Lex pressed, "What happened next?"
"Grandfather was gone for about two weeks. He personally went to the Intis seller to understand the situation. Two weeks later, he returned home and brought the painting back. He didn't say how he dealt with it. He just hid the painting and told us that no one was allowed to touch it ever again," Rowley continued.
"I remember that. I helped choose the metal box at the time. I even made a mark on the back of that box."
Hardy nodded and said, "Yes, another month later, Mr. Frank's family moved away. I heard they took his youngest son and eldest daughter to another place for treatment. Because of this, my father felt guilty for a while."
"But fortunately, after the painting was put away, no more strange things happened. Until now..."
After speaking, Rowley said with a touch of apology, "Sorry, Mr. Rayleigh, I concealed something just now. After all, it's hard for others to believe such things."
So that's how it was.
It sounded like Hardy's father must have put a sealed artifact on the oil painting, which is why no strange things happened afterward.
Lex thought for a moment and said, "It's alright, Mr. Rowley, I would have done the same."
He frowned again and said, "So, you didn't know how that incident ended at the time."
"Indeed, only my father would know how that incident ended at the time."
"Perhaps this matter was written in his diary, but I've hidden that diary. I can't remember where I hid it for now."
Hardy said in distress, "The problem now is, how should we deal with this painting? I have a premonition that it will cause even greater trouble."
As he spoke, the old man's gaze naturally fell on Lex, probably thinking that a reporter from Backlund, being well-traveled, should know how to handle it.
"If I were you, I'd hand this painting over to the church and tell them what's happening now," Lex said, and at that moment, a sudden gust of wind swept through the room.
It caused all the papers Josh had tacked to the wall to fly up.
After the wind subsided, Rowley looked at the window and said with a surprised expression, "The window, the window isn't open."
If the window wasn't open, where did the wind come from?
Lex suddenly stood up: "It's time to act, gentlemen."
Hardy gritted his teeth and said, "I'm going to the church right now."
The old man reached out to pick up the oil painting. Suddenly, Lex's spiritual intuition was triggered, and he looked at Josh's scribbles. On those papers, amidst those fantastical drawings, a dark, profound figure appeared.
Those figures suddenly protruded from the paper, constantly overlapping in the air, forming a rapidly expanding silhouette.
As that figure changed from small to large, Lex saw a black, intricate court dress. He saw pale skin, a face with dark circles around the eyes, a black veil, and a withered, grayish-white flower on the veil.
Madam Christie!
She raised her hands, her fingernails rapidly grew long, becoming dark with a greenish tint. She shrieked, but no sound came out.
Her mouth was unnaturally wide open, so much so that Lex could see her dark red tongue covered with tiny bumps, and a black esophagus.
His head suddenly felt heavy, as if someone had struck him hard on the back of the head with a stick. Lex's vision went black, and his gaze floated upwards.
He saw the ceiling of Josh's room, saw a spider pounce on an insect in its web, saw the window illuminated by the sun, saw a lady in red hurrying past outside on the street.
Then, he fell into darkness, his body seemingly plummeting, a process that felt incredibly long.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but Lex finally felt himself hit the ground. He quickly scrambled up, only to find that he was no longer in Josh's room.
The light here was dim, the floor was covered with cold stone tiles, the walls were damp, with water droplets visible all over them, and in some places, even mold was growing.
Behind Lex, there was a window, and it was the only window in the entire room. He walked to the window and saw an endless field of wheat outside.
In the distance, there was a winding small river, its water clear, reflecting the scattered trees and bushes along its banks.
To the northwest, wisps of smoke could be faintly seen, coming from the chimneys of some red-roofed houses below. It seemed to be a small village.
Looking down from the window, Lex saw a small square, stables, and a well.
This was definitely not Tingen City. As soon as this thought crossed Lex's mind, he suddenly realized, "I've entered the world within the painting?"
"I've been captured by Madam Christie?"
He quickly raised his hand, and a crimson glow leapt from his palm, which somewhat reassured Lex. Although he didn't know in what state he had entered the world within the painting, his abilities could still be freely used here.
However...
Looking at his empty fingers, Lex frowned slightly: "Magical items can't be brought into this world?"